


A Gifted Curse

by SherlockHolmes



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Wings, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:52:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockHolmes/pseuds/SherlockHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wing!Fic AU</p><p>To have wings is a curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4307.html?thread=12959955#t12959955

It was impossible to know who would grow wings.

They could appear any time after a kid hit puberty. Some people grew them as soon as they turned twelve. Most people began growing them between sixteen and eighteen. But you were never really sure if you’d grow them or not - there were always the rare cases of people who grew them as late as forty or fifty.

To have wings was a curse.

Ordinary people, people without wings, hated them. They claimed that they were unnatural, a mutation. They they should be rounded up, shot on sight, put down like a dog. They shouldn’t have rights, they shouldn’t have children, they shouldn’t have anything. It was only forty years ago that the same rights applied to winged people as to non-winged people. And people still complained.

They weren’t part of god’s design. They were unnatural. They were a disease, an infection to be cured. They took the body of an angel and corrupted it with the soul of a mortal.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to grab people with wing and hold them down. To hack away at the anomalies, hoping to make them normal. It never worked. They were never destroyed, although they were often damaged. Winged people got into the habit of hiding their wings, doing their best to avoid letting other people know they had them.

  
*** 

Richard Armitage grew wings a few weeks after his sixteenth birthday.

He’d discovered the feathery lumps in between his shoulder blades with a feeling of sinking dread. They didn’t disappear, like he often prayed they would, instead growing larger and larger, getting to the point where he couldn’t hide the black feathers under his shirt without binding the wings tightly and painfully. It worked, but his wings aches from their hiding place.

One day, a few years later, he tried to hack them off, taking the kitchen knife to the feathery flesh and bone. The pain had proven overwhelming as the blood spilled over his fingers, and he ended up curled up on his bed, sobbing in despair, injured wings curled around himself.

His parents had found him an hour later, walking in and seeing the hideous black abnormalities that had sprouted from his back for the first time. Richard had been unable to look up as they reacted with disgust and horror. An Armitage, with wings? It was unthinkable, unspeakable, abominable.

They gave him a hundred of their millions of pounds and kicked him out into the street without a second’s hesitation.

A park bench in hyde park became his new home. He discovered quickly that people didn’t want to give you jobs when you had wings. Nor did they want want to see you. His existence seemed to insult their very beings. He tried his hardest to make his hundred pounds last, but he was broke in just over a month. Scavenging through garbage bins for food became a common occurrence, and he quickly found the best places to look.

When winter started he was glad of his wings, for once. The starving twenty one year old would wrap them around himself, burying his head in the soft, black feathers. At least they offered more warmth than his threadbare clothes.

He was in this position, wings curled around himself for warmth as he shivered, when he got approached.

A tall, etherial woman in her twenties sat down on his bench, putting down her unreasonably large bag and gently shaking his shoulder. Richard had carefully retracted his wings, looking up into concerned blue eyes.

“You look freezing,” the woman said softly. Richard gulped slightly, looking down. It was the first time anyone had spoken to him properly in months.

“I am,” he replied honestly, the words sounding odd on his tongue, focusing his gaze on the ground. He’d quickly discovered that people like her people didn’t like being looked in the eye by people like him. 

From his peripheral vision he saw her bending over and ruffling around in her over sized bag. When she straightened, he quickly looked away, hiding his face behind his wings in a stroke of fear.

To his surprise, he simply felt a blanket being wrapped around his shoulders. Richard looked up, shocked.

“I hope that keeps you warm.”

Richard opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Shocked at the display of kindness. Gently, he reached up to feel the fleece of the blanket.

“Thank you,” he whispered, clenching the blanket in his fist as if it was about to disappear. “Thank you so much.”

The woman smiled at him, giving him a look of consideration.

“Do you want to grab a coffee or a bite to eat?”

“I...” Richard stuttered, nervous. “I don’t have any money or anything.”

“I’ll pay,” the lady said. “Come on, I know a good place. One where everyone’s welcome.”

His stomach grumbled, and he found himself nodding. The lady smiled and grabbed his hand, leading him into the labyrinth of London’s back alleys until they reached a small cafe.

“Are you sure they won’t object?” Richard asked nervously as the lady pushed open the door.

“I’m absolutely certain.”

He entered the cafe, and found himself in a state of shock.

There were people with wings everywhere.

More than that, they were sitting there and chatting civilly with normal people. One pair of women were even sitting in each other's laps, the wingless one being wrapped in her partner’s large tawny ones as they gently pressed their noses together in affection.

Nobody stared at him. Nobody hissed or curse or even seemed to notice him. He found his hand clutching at the woman who’d brought him there’s shoulder, his knees going weak.

“What... what is this place?” he asked, voice wavering.

“Haven,” the woman said kindly. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the owner.” 

She led him to the counter, gently forcing him into one of the chairs as she addressed the young man standing behind it, wiping a cup with a tea towel.

“James, do you know where Ian is?”

“He popped out to get some more coffee about five minutes ago,” the man, James, Richard assumed, replied in a thick Irish accent. “Should be back soon.”

The woman nodded in understanding. “Well, we should get some food while we’re waiting. What do you want?”

What did he want? He hadn’t been given a choice in a long time. “What can I have?”

The Irish server began to rattle off a list of food. It seemed like it would be easier for him to list what they didn’t have. Richard felt his hands start to shake at the thought of making a decision. Of having a choice.

“So, what sounds good?” the Irishman asked.

“I...I don’t know,” Richard said softly, voice wavering, aware that his hands were quivering. “How... what...”

His throat was dry. The woman and the man behind the counter looked at him encouragingly, which only made him shake more. There was pressure on him, and he was suddenly scared. What if he said the wrong thing? What if she was playing a trick? What if he ordered the food and she left and he couldn’t pay? He felt his fingers once again curling around the blanket the woman had hauled over his shoulders, over his wings.

His stomach growled, but he felt sick.

“Are you okay, lad?” James asked. “You’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I don’t know what to order,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he felt his cheeks turn red.

“Well, what do you like?”

What did he like? Something that he couldn’t get from a garbage bin.

“Something hot,” he said quickly, voice wavering. He paused, before reaping the statement, sounding a bit more confident. “Something hot.”

“D’you like pumpkin soup?” the woman suggested, seeming to realise that they weren’t going to get very far without guidance.

“Yes. Yes, pumpkin soup sounds good.”

“One pumpkin soup, coming right up,” James said, disappearing into the kitchen. He emerged a minute or so later with a steaming bowl of orange soup, placing it in front of Richard.

The young man found himself looking at the woman, as if asking permission to eat. She nodded, and Richard carefully took a spoonful of soup and tucked in.

It felt like heat was radiating through his body. The soup was rich and warm, and suddenly Richard felt his hunger.

The bowl was empty in less than two minutes, and Richard found himself trying to refrain from licking the bowl clean.

“Jesus, Cate, where’d you pick this one up from?”

Richard looked up, startled, as James addressed the woman, his heart in his throat.

“Hyde park. He was sleeping on a bench.”

Richard ducked his head, pulling his wings further around him, trying to make himself as small as possible. James noticed the movement, glancing over at him.

“Hey, mate, want some more soup?”

Richard looked up, nodding ever so slightly. The man smiled and grabbed the bowl, again returning promptly with it filled with soup. Richard grabbed his spoon and once more ravenously devoured the soup.

“God, when was the last time you ate?”

Richard looked up, startled at the question directed at him, grabbing the bowl of soup and holding it close, afraid of getting it snatched away.

“I don’t remember,” he said quietly. James swore, and Richard instincively flinched. Cate noticed, gently laying her hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, relax. We’re not going to hurt you, yea?”

“How do I know?” he asked. “How do I know if I can trust you?”

“You just have to,” Cate replied softly. “Do you want any more soup?”

Richard nodded, and the bowl was once more filled. He was halfway through it when he began to feel queasy.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he said quickly, pushing the bowl away. James and Cate exchanged looks, before Cate gently grabbed his elbow.

“We should take him to the room out back.”

Richard found himself being led around the counter and into a back room with a door leading onto the street. James shoved a bucket into his hands, and he found himself retching into it. The beautiful pumpkin soup came up, splattering the insides of it.

When his stomach was once again empty, Richard curled in on himself, trying to resist the urge to cry.

It was at this moment that the door at the back of the room opened. Richard found himself looking up in shock and fear.

To his surprise, he found himself looking into the kind blue eyes of a man who was past his prime. He was tall and strong looking, but that wasn’t what caught Richard’s eyes. No, what attracted his attention was the wings on his back. They were the largest wings he’d ever seen, and were the purest shade of white.

“I hope someone’s minding the cafe, James,” the new arrival said in a quiet, authoritative voice. James rolled his eyes.

“I’m not stupid, Ian. Adam’s also on at the moment.”

“Ah. And who, may I ask, is this?”

Richard found himself looking down again, breaking contact with those kind blue eyes.

“A homeless kid. He was laying on a bench in hyde park,” Cate replied.

“Does he have a name?”

Cate shrugged, and Richard realised he hadn’t introduced himself.

“My name’s Richard,” he said softly, his voice thankfully not wavering.

“Nice to meet you, Richard. My name’s Ian. Now, tell me, how did you come to be sleeping on a park bench in the middle of winter?”

Richard gulped, his mouth suddenly dry. “My parents... my parents found out that I had wings and kicked me out of home. I... I tried to get a job, but nobody would hire me. I have no food, no money, no nothing.”

He could feel looks of sympathy coming from Cate and James. Ian, on the other hand, kept a calm and even façade, although Richard could feel the rage underneath it. Wings once more wrapped themselves around him, scared that the rage was directed at him.

“Your parents just left you to starve or freeze to death?”

Richard shrugged his shoulders half heartedly, moving his wings away from his face to again study the man. That rage didn't seem to be directed at him. “It was going to happen. Nobody wants a child with wings _._ ”

He didn't spit the words. There was no venom, no fire. Just pure fact.

“Cate, James, please leave us for a moment.”

The two of them exchanged looks, but obeyed without a question, closing the door behind them as Ian sat down next to Richard, gently placing a hand on the younger man’s bony shoulder.

“Richard, look at me,” he said softly. Richard obeyed, meeting the other man’s eyes. “You didn’t deserve to get kicked out of home.”

“Didn’t I?” he asked softly. “I mean, look at me. I’m a freak.”

“Really? Does that make me a freak, too?”

“Yes. We’re both freaks. We shouldn’t exist.”

Ian grimaced slightly, looking at the defeated boy by his side.

“Yet here we are. Here, with so many more like us out there. We’re not freaks, Richard. And we do exist.”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t,” Richard admitted, his voice once more dropping to just above a whisper. 

“Well, you do. And while you’re here, you may as well make the most of life.”

“Make the most of life?" he asked mirthlessly. "How? I can’t do anything. I can’t get a job, I can’t get a place to live. I don't even have a coat. I can’t do anything.”

“You can work here. We always need more staff. There is a spare room above the café where can live there until you have enough money for your own place. And I’m sure James wouldn’t protest against giving you some of his old clothes. Now come, and I’ll show you around.”

Richard shook his head. "This can't be real. You can't be real. I'm dreaming. I'm going to wake up freezing cold on my bench in a minute."

"Richard, I assure you, this is real. I exist. Or at least I hope I do. Now, let me show you around."

Richard stood up, nodding. Once again, he felt himself holding back tears, but for a very different reason.

For the first time since the lumps of feathers had appeared on his back, Richard felt hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has actually been floating around on my computer for a while. Originally, it was intended as a oneshot, but I think I might extend it into a full multi-chapter fic now


	2. Chapter 2

Richard woke up in a soft bed, a pillow under his head. He blinked sleepily, disoriented, as he looked around the room without recognition. It was small and carpeted, lavender paint peeling slightly off the walls. It took him a moment to reorientate himself, remember what had happened the previous night. Cate approaching him on the bench, taking him to the café. Ian, with his grand wings and kind face, offering him a job and a home. Giving him food and a room. His room. His.

“It wasn’t a dream,” he said softly. “It wasn’t a dream.”

The thick, shaggy carpet was soft under his feet, and he took a moment to curl his toes into it. Carefully, he stood, making an effort to keep silent. A part of him was scared that he was dreaming, and if he made a sound the illusion would be shattered.

There was a pile of clothed at the end of his bed, with a note pinned to them.

_I hope these fit. James is a bit shorter than you.  
_ _\- Ian_  

Richard carefully unfolded the clothes, eyes widening at he stared at them.

Someone had cut long, thin slits in the back of the shirts.

Richard had to bite back a sob as joy and fear erupted in his chest, mingled with just a hint of disbelief. Here was a place where he didn’t have to hide his wings. Where he was _expected_ not to. 

It just sounded too good to be true.

Cautiously, he tugged one of the shirts over his head, feeling his wings slipping out of the back. Sticking out, on display for the whole world to see. Instinctively they folded tightly against his back, shying away from the open air. The ingrained shame at their existence made him feel uncomfortable having them out. It was one thing to show them off when you were sleeping on a park bench, dignity in tatters. It was another to have them sticking out of your shirt when you were trying to start a new, respectable life.

The sound of the door opening downstairs shocked the pensive Richard into alertness. A quick glance at the clock showed the time to be a quarter to seven. Ian had told him the night before that the café didn’t open until seven thirty, so it was too early for any customers. And Richard hadn’t heard Ian get up that morning, so it certainly wasn’t him.

Richard’s eyes quickly glanced around the room as paranoia filled him, searching for a weapon.

His gaze landed on the umbrella standing in the corner of the room. Without a second thought, he grabbed it, holding it tightly as he ran out of his room and thudded down the stairs. His wings snapped out to their full length in an attempt of making himself look as scary as possible.

The sight that greeted him wasn’t the large, menacing burglar he had expected, although it was almost as startling.

A lanky teenage boy was setting up the café, whistling as he gracefully plucked the chairs off the table and tucked them in below. His jeans were skinny, his long black hair pulled into a ponytail, but that wasn’t what caught Richard’s attention.

Black, speckled wings swooped gracefully from his shoulders, proudly on display as he glided around the café.

The boy didn’t seem to care that they were on display. 

Richard kept staring as the boy grabbed another chair, swooping around so he was facing the older man.

The chair clattered to the floor as the boy tripped, his eyes widened.

“Jesus christ!” he swore, and it took Richard a moment to realise he still had the umbrella raised threateningly in his hand, wings spread wide. The umbrella was released with a clatter as his wings snapped back into their usual position.

“Sorry,” Richard said quickly, feeling heat rising to his face. “I...I thought you were a burglar or something."

“If I was a burglar I would’ve been out in a flash, mate. That was bloody scary.”

Casually, he grabbed the chair he’d gotten and rightened it, flipping it so his legs were splayed around the back of it.

“You’re the new guy, aren’t you? Robert, I think James said.”

“Richard,” he corrected, startled by the other man’s ease. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the wings that seemed to be constantly shuffling, like they were puffing their chest out with the mind of their own.

“Richard. Suits you. I’m Aidan, by the way. I work here, if you were wondering. So no need for the umbrella. Hey, you want breakfast? Ian always lets the morning shift eat the french toast, although there’s always other food in the kitchen.”

Richard nodded, eyes still on the boy’s wings. 

“Is that a yes to the french toast or a yes to something else?”

Richard nodded again, gaze not shifting. Aidan glanced over his shoulder, confused.

“Are you okay? Richard?”

Richard snapped his gaze away from the speckled feathers, thinking that he should ask for just a piece of fruit.

“Do you always wear your wings like that?” was what came out instead. The boy looked confused.

“Like what?”

“Sticking out on display.”

The boy shrugged. “Usually, yea. Why? Is there a problem with that?"

“Just...” Richard paused, questioning how to phrase what he wanted to say without offending the teenager. “Don’t you ever get embarrassed? Don’t your parents mind?”

“I don’t get what there is to be ashamed of,” Aidan replied, unperturbed. “I mean, it’s not like we have a choice. They just grow one day. And having wings is seen as an honour in my family.”

“An... an honour?” 

“Yeah. My family’s pretty religious. They see it as a ‘sign that angels have come down and blessed their dear boy’. Which is sometimes a bit annoying, but it means I get extra cake at parties, so I’m not complaining.”

Richard stared at Aidan. He couldn’t help it.

“They don’t mind? At all?”

The teenager gave another shrug. “Not really. I mean, Aunt Bernice constantly makes shifty eyes at me. But she makes shifty eyes at everyone, so she doesn’t really count.”

Richard found himself going weak at the knees just thinking about it. An entire family who didn’t care that their son had wings. Who thought it was a _blessing._

“Hey, Richard, you okay? You look kinda pale.”

“I just... I didn’t know there were people out there who didn’t hate us.”

“Oh, yea. Loads of them. I mean, I know some people think that they’re hard to find, but they’re just not looking in the right places.”

Was that true? Had he just spent months shivering to death on a park bench, thinking the universe hated him, when in reality he just wasn’t looking in the right spots? Was there hope, after all?

“Anyway, I’m hungry,” Aidan said, interrupting Richard’s thoughts. “C’mon. Breakfast first, then I’ll show you the ropes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter was meant to do more than this...  
> Also, do people prefer Aidan/Dean or Dean/Adam? And Richard/Lee or Richard/Graham or Richard/James. Because they all work and have the potential to take the story in very different directions.


	3. Chapter 3

Richard watched Aidan eat with disgusted curiosity. 

Five slices of french toast had been piled up on the teenager’s plate, before being drowned in sugar syrup and covered in berries. Richard, on the other hand, had grabbed a simple banana and was slowly making his way through it, mindful of what had happened with the pumpkin soup the previous day.

“You sure you don’t want a slice?” Aidan asked, his mouth full. “It’s really good, trust me.”

Richard gave a half hearted shrug. “Ian said I should start small when it comes to food. I haven’t eaten anything for breakfast for months, so my body’s not used to it.”

“Yea, James mentioned something about you being homeless.”

Richard shrugged, not entirely sure what the teenage boy expected him to say in response.

“How’d that happen?”

“How’d what happen?”

“How’d you, you know, end up homeless?”

Richard sighed, bringing a hand up to rub his forehead. “It’s a long story.”

The kid shrugged, swallowing his mouthful of toast. “We’ve got time.”

“I don’t particularly want to talk about it,” he clarified. Bad enough that he had basically sobbed it out to Ian in front of Cate and James yesterday. No need to let the kid think he was some sort of a wimp. And no need to shatter his illusions of what most people though of their kind.

“Oh, right. It’s that sort of ‘long story’. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Aidan said, and Richard felt himself relax. In all honesty, the teenager had just been making small talk - he seemed a lot more absorbed in his food than anything else. In fact, it had gotten to the stage where there was only one piece of toast left on Aidan’s plate. 

They sat in silence as Aidan ate the last of his meal, devouring it quickly for someone taking such tiny bites. When, finally, the last drops of sugar syrup had been licked off his plate, he stood up.

“You any good at making coffee?”

Richard looked up, instinctively tensing at the voice breaking the silence, before remembering that it was just Aidan. Wordlessly, he shook his head, and Aidan groaned.

“Figures. Come on, I’ll show you the machine.”

Making a good quality coffee, it turns out, is harder than it looks. Aidan went on about it for ages, and Richard sound himself unintentionally tuning out.

“...and that is why baboons wax their bottoms,” Aidan finished.

“Wait, what?” Richard snapped back to attention, causing the young irishman to let out a laugh.

“Just seeing if you were paying attention.”

Richard still looked at him, still confused.

“What is why baboons wax their bottoms?” 

Aidan shrugged. “Not a clue. It’s a trick James taught me - randomly add something completely obscure to the end of a sentence to check if people are paying attention.”

The confused silence that answered rendered the atmosphere awkward. Finally, Aidan broke the silence, continuing on his coffee rant.

“Anyway, that’s most complex part. I’m pretty sure Ian showed you where everything is yesterday,” he said, as if nothing had happened. Again, Richard just nodded and listened as his young workmate rambled on. “And the café’s all set up. There’s about fifteen minutes until we officially open. Dean and Adam’ll hopefully be here by then. Ian always makes sure that there are at least four people on at any one time. Two serving customers, two in the kitchen. It’s generally a fight to the death as to who gets what job, ‘cause nobody ever wants to do the dishes.”

“I’m fine with being on the dishes,” Richard said quickly, thinking it was better than serving customers. He wasn’t quite sure he felt up to dealing with regular people - he’d never been the most outgoing person even before he’d grown wings. Aidan’s face lit up.

“Brilliant! Adam usually does cooking. Unless Steven’s on. Dean is not allowed in the kitchen under _any_ circumstances. We spent months cleaning up after the last time.”

As if on cue, the door to the café swung open to reveal a young blonde man, probably a year or so older than Aidan, huddled in warm, winter woolies.

“If it starts snowing before my shift ends, I’m going to be so pissed,” he announced, pulling off his beanie to reveal a shock of blond hair. “Because unlike you, I can’t just fly home. And my bus never, _ever_ turns up.”

He shrugged off his coat, revealing a lack of wings. Richard could easily imagine the stretch of unbroken skin between his shoulder blades.

_Lucky bastard._

The said lucky bastard scrunched up his nose, carefully mussing up his hair where it had been flattened by his beanie. When he looked up, his eyes rested on Richard and his face light up.

“Hello! You’re the new guy, aren’t you? Richard. I’m Dean.”

_How the hell does new travel that fast?_ Richard wondered. He didn’t get a chance to voice this query, though, because once again the door swung open. In came another young man, yet another who Richard assumed didn’t have wings. A wrong assumption, it turned out, when he peeled off his knitted jumper to reveal two caramel brown wings sticking out from under his shirt, tucked tightly against his back.

So it was just Aidan who didn’t seem to care about his wings being on show.

“Morning,” the newest appearance said chirpily. “Who are you?”

Finally, someone who didn’t seem to magically know about his existence.

“Richard.”

“He’s new,” Dean added, unhelpfully.

“And he’s agreed to be on dishes today,” Aidan continued. Both Adam and Dean gave a groan of relief.

“I love you already,” Adam sighed. “Seriously, last time the three of us and James was on, they ended up wrestling to decide who would be on dishes. They broke four chairs between them.”

Richard hadn’t quite realised how literally Aidan had meant the fighting to the death statement.

***

It turned out there was a reason nobody wanted to be on dishes. 

The little café was bustling with activity. The kitchen was stifling due to the heat coming off the various hotplates, stoves and ovens Adam was cooking with. The other man was running around the kitchen in a flurry of activity, trying to keep up with the orders. And the dishes just kept on coming. In the first hour since opening, Richard and Adam had barely had time to say much other than “sorry” or “excuse me” or the occasional “I think Dean’s yelling for you”. 

Richard wasn’t complaining. He liked the mindless, rhythmic scrubbing, not being expected to hold conversations. He’d been on his own for so long that he doubted he could even come up with enough to say to another person.

Still, at around eleven the bustle died down, the breakfast crowd having dispersed and the lunch crowd not having appeared. Outside the kitchen, he could hear Dean and Aidan laughing about something with some customer. Inside, Adam was carefully rolling up and fastening his sleeves.

“So, what’s your deal?”

Richard found himself once more startled by someone directing a question to him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what went wrong in your life,” Adam clarified. When Richard looked put out, he elaborated. “Ian only ever takes on outcasts. And very rarely lets us sleep in the spare room above the café.”

Richard was thankful that the kitchen was hot - hopefully Adam would think that that was why his face was bright red.

“I just... I don’t have anywhere else to stay.”

There was a moment of silence, before Richard spoke up again.

“What about you? How’d you end up here?”

“Got kicked out of my degree when they found out I had wings, and I didn’t have the guts to go crawling back to my parents.”

Richard nodded in understanding. Condolences should be offered, he was sure, but he wasn’t sure what to say.

Fortunately, he was saved from having to say anything by Dean sticking his head in through the door.

“Adam, someone wants chocolate chip pancakes. And the lunch crowd will be coming through soon.”

And after that, the café exploded back into life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not entirely sure about how I'm writing Dean or Adam, so sorry about that.  
> Also I have a rough idea of what will happen in this fic, so success!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED TO THE OFfICIAL CHATER 4

It was four in the afternoon, and Richard was surprised to find himself sitting on a couch in Dean O’Gorman’s rather small living room. 

By two thirty, the lunch crowd had left, and the afternoon tea one hadn’t arrived. Aidan had locked the café doors, flipping over the open sign as the other three began cleaning the café.

“James, Graham, Jed and Steven are on this afternoon,” Aidan had said as he headed over to help, “Which means that all four of us have the evening off.”

“Star Wars and pizza at my place?” Dean offered.

“Star Wars and pizza at your place,” Aidan had confirmed. “You in, Richard?”

Aidan’s casual inclusion had left Richard dumbstruck one again. While he knew, logically, that he should expect invitations to spend evenings with his co-workers and potential friends, the part of him that was still huddled on a park bench automatically recoiled at even being addressed. Quickly, he’d recovered, nodding. 

“Sweet. Grab a coat, we’ll catch the bus for wingless here.”

He had ended up jogging up the stairs, listening to Dean complain about how next time Aidan could supply the movies. Their conversation faded into the background as Richard looked around his room - _his room,_ still a foreign concept - for something warmer.

Eventually, he uncovered a nice wooly jumper and a coat, shrugging them on and feeling a comfortable warmth that he hadn’t felt since the night he’d tried to hack his wings off.

So the four of them had piled onto Dean’s bus, when it finally turned up. Adam and Richard had dutifully hid their wings under their outer coats, but Aidan continued to wear his proudly, not seeming to notice all annoyed looks shot his way. 

Which was how it got to be four o’clock, with Aidan and Dean arguing about if they were going to start with the prequels or sequels first, Adam rolling his eyes and groaning.

“Guys, you have this argument every time. We started from the prequels last time, so this time we go from the sequels.”

Aidan scowled, slouching back into the couch as Dean gleefully put the DVD in, spreading out his wings so they took up all the free space on the couch. To Richard’s surprise, Dean just smiled and plonked himself down inside the irishman’s wingspan. The black, speckled wings curled around the other man, pulling him in closer, and Dean’s head ended up resting gently on Aidan’s shoulder.

Richard looked away, his eyes focusing on the screen.

He’d seen Star Wars before - few people hadn’t. But, if Aidan and Dean’s commentary was anything to go on, he hadn’t been watching it properly. The two boys argued loudly over who had the better trivia. Even Adam sometimes pitched in, adding his ideas to the catcall of voices.

The noise was too much in the cramped space, the shouting making Richard’s head spin. The last time he’d heard so much shouting there was blood and feathers and pain and hands grabbing him and suddenly he couldn’t breathe and he needed to _get out, get out, run, get out please get out get out you’re not welcome run get out get out get out get out_. His lungs refused to fill, his brain refused to clear.

“Richard, are you okay?”

The voice seemed to be calling from far away, from another universe. 

“Richard, what’s wrong?”

There was something tangled in his hair, and it took him a moment to place it as his own hand.

“Richard.”

Someone was touching his hand, trying to pull it away from his hair. 

He kicked out, feeling his foot connecting with soft flesh. The hand moved, and he scampered backwards, until he hit a wall.

“Aidan, Adam, back off a bit, give him space. Hey, Richard, can you hear me? It’s Dean. From work. Listen, mate, can you breathe? Can you just do that for me? Just breathe, yea? Deep breathes, c’mon mate.”

_Breathe. Breathe._

“That’s it, you’re doing well. Keep breathing.”

Richard followed the instructions, feeling his heart rate slow and his vision clear.

“That’s it. You with us?”

Richard nodded mutely, not trusting his voice.

“Do you mind if I hug you?”

He shook his head, and suddenly he was enveloped in a warm embrace, Dean’s arms wrapped firmly around him, hands gently smoothing his feathers. 

Richard hadn’t been hugged since he was sixteen years old, always too afraid that someone would feel his wings, figure out what he was. So, at the feeling of Dean’s arms around him, he felt a dam break. A sob found it’s way out of his throat as he returned the other man’s embrace, fingers digging into the younger man’s back as he buried his face in the Kiwi’s shoulder.

Time seemed to draw to a halt as they sat there, Richard crying into the other man’s shoulders as he soothingly stroked his wings. He had no clue how long the hug lasted for, only that it was long enough for Adam to have gone into the kitchen and cooked the pizza and for Aidan to have turned off the TV.

“Sorry,” Richard said when they finally pulled apart. “I’ve gotten your shirt all wet. And ruined your evening.”

“Don’t worry about it, mate,” Dean replied with a good natured smile. “C’mon, Adam’s cooked pizza. We should go eat before he gets cranky.”

Richard couldn’t help but crack a grateful smile as the younger man jumped to his feet and offered him a hand to help him up.

The smell of pizza made Richard’s mouth water and stomach growl apprehensively. Memories of the previous day’s pumpkin soup floated to the surface of his memory, stopping him from reaching out for a slice.

“You should try the potato pizza,” Adam said. “It’s just potato, rosemary, and salt. Reasonably healthy.”

Cautiously, as if it might bite him, he took a slice. 

It ended up being the only slice he ate, due to him not wanting to push his luck. The other three didn’t comment, sinking into light hearted, easy conversation, which Richard listened to, rarely adding his own voice but enjoying it all the same.

Nobody noticed the time until it was eleven.

“Crap, I should probably be getting home,” Adam said, glancing at the clock. “Thanks for the movie, Dean.”

“I should probably be getting home, too. James always gets mad when I wake him up.”

Richard froze, suddenly realising he had no idea how to get back to the café. There’d be no busses at this time of night, and even if there was one he’d have no idea where to get off.

“You okay to get home, Richard?” Aidan asked as he bundled on his coat.

“No. I...I don’t know the way. And I don’t have a car or a bus or anything.”

Aidan laughed. “Do you have wings or not? I’ll fly with you.”

Richard stared at him. “Fly?”

“Yea. Don’t tell me you haven’t flown before?”

Once again Richard could feel his face going red as he shook his head.

“Wow. Okay, um, it’s not that hard really. Just...ugh, follow me.”

The irishman basically ran out of the apartment, and Richard moved to follow before he remember his manners.

“Thank you for everything this evening.”

Dean smiled at him. “It was nothing. I’ll see you later.”

Richard nodded, before running to catch up to Aidan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to take this opportunity to say this fic isn't dead. However, I have two weeks of exams coming up so I will, unfortunately, be unlikely to update during that time. Afterwards it shall hopefully become at least once weekly updates, although I can't promise anything. And sorry that this chapter is crap - literally written in three minutes late at night, and it's meant to be a bad sex scene. I was almost planning to do a 50 shades of grey spoof, but I prefer this.
> 
> On another, slightly similar note, April is Asexy April, where writers write asexual characters, etc. And one of the things that I'm going to (hopefully) do is a 24 fics in 24 hour challenge on the 26th of April.
> 
> Which is where you guys come in.
> 
> I need prompts. I currently have 2. I need 22 more. So, please, please, please leave me prompts. It can be any OTP or character or situation from any of my fandoms. And I'm in a lot of fandoms, so just ask and I will tell you yay or nay. Leave them in the comments, or on my tumblr (daughterofgallifrey.tumblr.com). Anything you want to see me write. 
> 
> Oh, and happy easter for yesterday! I hope everyone got lots of chocolate and those who are religious celebrated or ignored whatever traditional passtimes were meant to happen.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who haven't realised, the previous chapter has been updated since the April Fool's addition. You may want to go back and read that if you haven't already.  
> Also, this fic is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own. And as it's 2:30 AM, I'm sure there are one or two

Flying, Richard thought, might just be worth it. 

For the first time, his wings were spread out to their full fourteen feet, angling carefully to catch an updraft. Aidan flew ahead of him, flying backwards, wings flapping almost lazily as he watched his co-worker.

“This is fantastic!” Richard called to the Irishman.

“Of course it is - we’re flying. I can’t believe you’ve never done this before.”

If he’d not been flying, his shoulders would’ve been shrugging. “It’s kinda hard to fly when you’re trying to keep your wings a secret.”

Still, his companion shook his head in disbelief. “The first thing I did when I discovered I had wings was jump off my balcony in an attempt to fly. I failed, of course,” he laughed. “They were barely more than stumps back then. Broke a wrist and an ankle in the process. My mum almost had a heart attack when she saw me. Although I think she was more upset that I’d crushed the roses than anything else. She fed me nothing but chicken noodle soup for a week after that. A week!”

Once again, Richard’s gut twisted with envy at the thought of a young Aidan getting cared for by a loving mother, having her be more worried about the crushed flowers than her son’s disfigurement. Richard’s wings hadn’t even stopped bleeding when his parents kicked him out onto the street like an unwanted dog. 

“Look, there’s the café,” Aidan said, pointing. “Bet you I can beat you down there.”

And before Richard could say anything, Aidan’s wings snapped back, the young man plummeting into a nosedive. A yelp of fear escaped Richard’s lips, sure the younger man would strike the pavement and collapse. A fear that turned out to be pointless, as Aidan gracefully rolled in the air and snapped out his wings, landing gently right outside the café.

Richard’s decent was slower, flying down carefully, aware of his heart hammering loudly in his ears. When he landed in front of Aidan, with a lot less grace than his friend, he had to fight the urge to roughly shake him.

“That was the most reckless, stupid maneuver I have ever seen. You could have gotten yourself killed,” he growled instead, fueled by the fear he had felt at his friend’s fall. The younger man shrugged carelessly.

“I’ve done it hundreds of times before,” he said. “It’s not like I’m that reckless.”

“You looked like you were going to hit the pavement. I thought you were going to die!” Richard yelled, hardly aware of his volume. “You just snapped your wings in and fell, without so much as a warning! I didn’t know what you had planned, or if you knew what you were doing!”

Aidan finally looked a bit guilty, gazing down at his feet. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay,” Richard replied, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. “Just... give me a bit of warning next time.”

The guilty look got replaced by a cheeky smile that cracked over Aidan’s face. “You were worried about me! That’s adorable.”

A long buried spark of forgotten pride ignited in Richard and he straightened his back, shuffling his wings. “I was not worried. I just don’t particularly fancy explaining to your workmates how you died pulling a stupid stunt,” he replied stiffly. 

“You’re an awful liar, you know that?”

“Yea, so I’ve been told,” Richard said, the pride extinguishing as quickly as it had flared, sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Ah, well, plenty of time to practice yet. Anyway, I’d best be off. I’ll see you soon.” The cheeky smile shifted to something more sincere. “I hope you stick around for a bit. It was great meeting you today.”

“It was great meeting you, too, Aidan,” Richard replied, finding himself almost surprised that he meant the words. He had enjoyed the evening with Aidan and Adam and Dean, even if he had had a slightly humiliating meltdown. “I’ll see you around.”

Aidan nodded, before taking off. Richard watched the young Irishman disappear into the dark sky before going into the café.

It wasn’t empty. Ian was sitting at one of the tables, scratching away at some odd note. When the door shut, he looked up.

“Ah, Richard. You’re back. I thought I heard voices. How did you find your first day?”

“It was good. Very good.”

“No difficulties, then? You got along fine with Aidan, Adam and Dean?”

“Yea. They were... they were great, really.”

“And I see James’ clothes fit you fine.”

Richard nodded. “I’ll have to thank him for them when I next see him.”

Ian smiled at him. “I’m sure he’ll tell you that it wasn’t a problem. Now, I’m sure you’re exhausted, so I should let you get to bed. If you need anything, just give a shout. I have very good hearing.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Richard replied. The house could be burning around him and he wouldn’t yell for Ian’s help - the man had done too much for him already. “And thank you so, so much, sir. For everything."

The older man’s blue eyes twinkled with joy. “It was nothing, my dear. And call me Ian - sir just makes me sound like an old school teacher.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Ian.”

“Goodnight, Richard. Sleep well.”

Richard nodded, silently, before going up to his room and flopping down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness and replaying the day in his head, from first meeting Aidan, Adam and Dean, to Star Wars, to flying. And, despite the hotness of the kitchen as he did the dishes and the moment of fear as he curled up on Dean’s couch, he realised it had been a good day. He was safe, slowly building new friendships. Proper friendships.

A smile played across his lips, the first in a long time, as he realised he finally had a place he could call home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter achieved almost nothing  
> Sorry  
> Thank you everyone who has left comments and kudos on this fic! They really brighten my day.


	6. Chapter 6

The new day's dawn was nowhere near as eventful as the previous one's. When the bell on the door of the café tinkled before seven that morning, Richard ignored it, rolling over and going back to sleep, feeling incredibly exhausted after the previous night's events. He didn't properly wake up until after eleven, groaning as he sat up and felt the stiffness in his shoulders and wings, aching from their first proper use.

This morning, the slits in the back of James' old shirts weren't a surprise, although his wings still shied away from their freedom. The soft carpet under his feet didn't feel quite as impressive, the flaky lavender walls not quite so encasing. 

By the time he'd tugged his battered brown boots over his feet, he was awake and alert, having forced himself to be a morning person since his wings had first appeared. Slowly, dawdling, he headed down stairs and into the café. While he had managed to convince himself that this place really was real, and not just a cold induced, feverish hallucination, there was still a part of him that was paranoid that his paradise was made of plastic and filled with rotten fruit.

But entering the bustling café a second time, he found welcome and loving displays. A group of young people of varying colours, genders and winglessness had taken over one of the corner booths and were chatting animatedly while a pair of older ladies ducked away from their wildly waving arms in a well practiced dance. Bursts of laughter cut through the general hubbub of the packed café, the long forgotten sound catching Richard by surprise. 

Making his way over to the counter seemed to cross over into safety hazard territory, with the occasional enthusiastic flapping wings clipping his shoulder. The owner of them would generally turn around and apologise, warm and honest words and smiles echoing in a language he hadn't heard in years. By the time he managed to find the counter, he was dizzy with pleased confusion.

“Dude, I’ve been looking for that shirt!”

James’ voice snapped him out of his daze as he glanced down at the blue top. His voice seemed to desert him as he fumbled around the hem of the shirt with shaking hands, slick with sweat as his breath began to gasp.

“Shit, lad, calm down. I’m just messing with you – it’s fine. Really, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Richard couldn’t help looking up with wide eyes filled with panic, hands still hovering around the hem. He felt like he was frozen for an age when another man swept in, whacking James playfully over the head.

“You tormenting another poor customer?”

“I don’t torment any poor customers. Anyway, this isn’t just some customer. He’s Richard, Ian’s newest recruit.”

The man’s eyes sweep over him curiously, with a surprising amount of warmth.

“Good to meet you, Richard. I’m Graham.”

Richard felt his old upper class politeness kicking in and overriding his fear. Gulping down a last panicked breath, he forced a smile onto his face.

“It’s a pleasure.”

Graham smiled back, before nudging James.

“There’s a customer over there that needs their order taken. I’ll take care of Richard.”

James nodded, swooping off to serve the girl who had been waiting as Graham turned back to Richard.

“Sorry about James. He means well, but he can be a bit intense sometimes.”

Richard gave a halfhearted shrug, hoping to cover up any last shivers. “I am wearing his old clothes.”

“That shirt looks better on you than it ever did on him. Although that isn’t saying much.”

Richard shifted uncomfortably in his seat, uncertain about if he was allowed to laugh or not. The awkward silence that followed indicated the former, but by then it was too late to salvage the moment.

“Sorry. My social skills are a little rusty,” Richard said, glad that his voice came out as more than a wavering squeak. Graham nodded.

“Understandable. So, what can I get for you?”

Richard’s eyes hovered over the French toast listed on the menu, stomach rumbling at just the thought.

“Just… just a bowl of museli, please,” he replied, looking down at his hands.

“Nice choice. Toasted with yogurt and peaches is how I usually—”

Graham cut off in the middle of his sentence as the door swung open and a blonde, wingless man entered. He wasn’t the only one – a hush fell over the entire café, with the youths Richard had past before being the only voices still echoing in the café. Richard was torn between ducking for cover and curiously staring at the man. The choice was taken from him when the man approached the counter next to him, leaning on it as he smiled lazily.

“You’re not welcome here, Kazinsky,” Graham growled.

“Is that any way to talk to an old friend, MacTavish?”

“We were never friends.”

The two of them stayed there, Graham glaring at the other man, Kazinsky, like he was trying to burn him to the ground there and then. Kazinsky didn’t look fazed at all, lazy smirk not budging an inch. Richard glanced around the café, aware that most eyes were on the stalemate beside him. An escape route wasn’t an option – he felt his mouth go dry at that, the walls seeming the close in on him, the silence beside him deafening. The world around him seemed to fade from reality, moving into a pale façade of what he knew.

“Neither Aidan or Dean are here, if that’s what you want. And, like Graham said, you’re not welcome here.”

The world had yet to distort far enough for Richard to be completely unable to make out James’ voice.

“Richard, are you okay?”

He jumped at the sound of the voice so close to him, wings flapping out in surprise, hitting the Kazinsky that his colleagues seemed to despise.

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing, you mongrel!”

“Leave him out of this and go, Rob,” Cate, the voice that had snapped him back to reality, said. “Don’t make us forcibly remove you.”

“What, you freaks think you can kick me out of my own café?”

“It’s Ian’s café,” Cate reminded him curtly. “You’ve never even worked here.”

“It’s your café for the moment. But I’ll be seeing a lot of you over the next few weeks, I can guarantee it.”

The bell of the store chimed as Rob walked out, not caring about the glares that followed him. Richard could still feel his muscles coiled, ready to flee at any moment.

“Your hands are shaking, kid,” Graham commented. “You need a glass of water?”

Not trusting his voice, Richard nodded, glancing down at his quivering hands.

“How I’d love to crack his head in,” James growled, still glaring at the door Rob had exited through.

“James,” Cate halfheartedly scolded.

“I said I’d love to, Cate. Didn’t say I actually would.”

Richard couldn’t help the curiosity bubbling up in him. As Graham set the glass of water in front of him, his hands stopped shaking and he found his voice.

“Who…who was that?”

“Douchebag of the century, that’s who,” James grumbled.

“Known more politely as Rob Kazinsky, Aidan’s ex boyfriend and an ex military mate of Dean’s. Also one of the loudest anti-winged promoter there is.”

Richard frowned, feeling no less confused. “Wait, Aidan dated that guy? An anti-winged guy? And Dean was in the military?”

Cate, Graham and James all exchanged looks, silently communicating in a language that was completely foreign to Richard. Finally, Cate spoke.

“It’s a long story. And not ours to tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha, remember this fic? I'm very sorry for abandoning it - final year of highschool sapped both my time and my will to write. But I'm done now, and attempting to continue this fic and remember what I was doing based off my crappy notes. As always, this chapter was unbetad and written at a ridiculous hour. Also sorry if there are some characterisation issues - it's been a while and I'm finding it hard to slip into old characters while adding new. Also also I'm sure Rob Kazinsky is a lovely person, but the plot demanded a villain and he fit the bill. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this new chapter and continue to bear with me :D


	7. Chapter 7

A week later, Richard still hadn’t found out what the history between Rob, Dean and Aidan had been. He just hadn’t had the courage to ask, despite having spent most of his shifts with at least one the two of them or Adam – constantly stuck on dishes, unfortunately – followed by extreme amounts of movie and pizza nights. In the past week he’d also been introduced to other workers. He’d met the wingless chef, Steven, who was the only one who could match Adam’s cooking skill, William and Ken, Ian’s winged accountant and advisor, and Jed, who was the only one who could match James in anything – mostly crude – and tended to treat Adam as a brother and student in the art of how to get the most out of feathery situations. 

He’d also discovered that ex-employees also tended to come into the café at least twice a week, leading him to have met John, Peter, and Mark.

The week after his arrival, he, Jed, Adam, James, Dean and Aidan were all sitting around in the closed café, sharing dinner and wine. Once again, Richard found himself staring at the group, wondering at their easy acceptance of him. At the fact that, for the first time in his life, he was surrounded by fellow friends with wings, James and Dean being the only two lacking them.

“And he said, ‘I was standing in the crowd, watching you wave with the Pope, when the man standing next to me turned to me and said hey, who’s that up there with Joe!’”

The table erupted with laughter as Richard realised he’d tuned out the majority of Aidan’s joke. Dean, grinning next to him, nudged his side.

“You okay there?”

“I think I missed the majority of that joke,” Richard replied, feeling his cheeks flush slightly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll hear it again. I swear the five of us only have ten jokes between us. That’s Aidan’s fifth telling of it this year.”

Richard smiled, easily being able to imagine the situation as Jed launched into a joke about a guy with a wooden head.

“What about you, Richard?” Aidan asked. “Know any horrendous jokes?”

Five sets of eyes focused on him, and suddenly the relaxed attitude that he’d been fostering all night escaped him. His mouth had barely begun to dry when Aidan realised his mistake.

“Or I’ve got the one about the–“

“I’ve got a joke,” Richard said quickly, gathering up his confidence. “What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence?”

“I dunno,” Jed replied, leaning back on the back two legs of his chair. “Do inform us.”

“Time to get a new fence!”

Jed almost fell backwards in his chair as everyone else on the table snorted.

“I haven’t heard that one in years! Okay, I’ve got one. Why did the koala fall out of the tree?”

Aidan let out a groan as Adam whacked Jed’s arm. “You told that one last time. Get some new material, man!”

Richard found a laugh bubbling up inside him at Jed’s fake insulted face. When he did chuckle, the rest of his friends froze and stared at him.

“He laughs!” James proclaimed dramatically.

“Oh, that was totally me. I made Richard laugh first,” Adam said, grinning.

“No way, man. It was me, just like it was me with Dean,” Jed shot back.

“Actually, Jed, Aidan made me laugh about a week before you did,” Dean replied casually.

Aidan let out a self-righteous ‘ha’ at that, causing James to whack him on the head.

“Oi! What was that for!”

“You being a smarmy ass, that’s what,” James replied.

Jed laughed at that, while Aidan glared at him.

“Oh come on, guys, be nice,” Dean admonished. Richard watched as the group managed to roll their eyes in sync and reply “Yes, dad!”

Soon, the table descended into paired conversation, Aidan and Dean chatting animatedly to one another, sitting close, Dean’s hand gently resting on Aidan’s. Jed and Adam, on the other side of the table, were chatting happily to one another, discussing some sort of apple meringue tart that Adam was experimenting with.

“So… how’re you settling in?” 

Richard started slightly as James addressed him. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he gave a half-hearted shrug.

“Fine, I guess. Everyone’s been really welcoming, so that’s nice.”

“Yeah, about that. Look, I’m really sorry if I scared you at all in that first week. First day I swear I almost caused you to have at least ten breakdowns." 

“It was only three, I think,” Richard replied with a small smile. 

“Well, the point still stands. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you I’m not good at being a sympathetic character. So I’m sorry if I came on too strong at first, and if I ever cross too far into your comfort zone, just say so, yeah?”

“Will do.”

“Good. Good.”

“Who wants tarts? We only have one chocolate one left!” Adam called from his new position in the kitchen.

“Bagsies the chocolate one!” Dean yelled, jumping out of his seat.

“Oh no you don’t!” Jed replied, wings flapping open as he launched himself over the table and tackled the younger man.

“Oof! Jed, get off me!”

“Not until you say I can have the chocolate tart.”

Dean rolled onto his back under his friend and lashed out with his forearms, unbalancing Jed. In seconds he had him pinned, twisting his arm behind his back. But before he could fully claim victory, Jed flapped his wings, striking Dean and once again allowing him to get the upper hand. As he pinned Dean again and grabbed one of his flailing arms, the blonde let out a cry of pain.

The effect was instantaneous. Jed jumped back as if Dean was a red-hot iron. Aidan was on his feet and by Dean’s side in an instant, resting Dean head on his lap as he curled in on himself, shivering and whimpering in pain.

“Shit, Dean, I completely forgot. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Is—is there anything I can do to help?” Richard asked. Aidan, James, Jed and Adam all turned and looked at him, as if just remembering he was there. For the first time he felt distinctly unwelcome, as Jed nervously wrung his hands and Aidan glared at him. As Dean let out another small whimper, Richard found himself turning heel and bolting to his room, heart hammering.

Nobody came after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, making up for that massive hiatus with a second chapter this week! Also it's quite short so figured I'd cover my back :D
> 
> Also thank you all for leaving such lovely comments! I haven't written anything in so long I'd forgotten how happy they make you. So I hope this chapter lived up to everyone's expectations (it's a bit of a crack chapter), and if not, at least you didn't have to wait ages for it.
> 
> And if anyone wants to know any of the crappy jokes in full just ask and I'll try convey them in written word as well as I can


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning Richard didn’t have a shift, so he gladly locked himself in his room. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Aidan’s dark eyes boring into him, bearing that same look of blame as his parents. He could see Dean, shaking, inexplicably in pain. The memories were destructive, out of context, and he knew that logically. Logic, however, did not stop him tossing and turning all night, fretting about how long until he was kicked onto the street for something he wasn’t responsible for.

He’d begun pacing when there was a knock on the door.

“Richard, you in?”

Richard glanced up in the door in fear, recognising the Irish accent. A small part of him needed to open that door, to face up to whatever he thought he’d done, to beg forgiveness, to plea for him to let him stay in the closest thing he had to a home. But the part was tossed around by the fear inside him, fear that Aidan would come in and do… _something._ What the something was, he wasn’t sure, but it would be big and terrible and most likely painful.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”

When the door opened, he couldn’t help but take half a step back from Aidan, his heart hammering in his chest so loud he was sure they must be able to hear it in the café below. 

“Look, mate, I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about last night.”

Richard stared at him, doing a double take. That wasn’t quite what he’d imagined happening. Before it had time to fully register Aidan was launching into more.

“You see, we’re all a bit protective of Dean. He was the person who Ian recruited before you, and it’s sort of entirely my fault he lost his old job and came here in the first place, so there’s a bit of guilt about that and he’s just generally Dean and when that happens it’s always scary for all of us and we generally don’t like outsiders seeing it. Not that you’re an outsider, but you’ve been here barely a week and none of us will tell each other’s secrets without permission because we all have our reasons for being here and like nobody quite knows how Stephen got recruited because he refuses to say and there’s this whole thing where it takes us a while to be comfortable enough with new people to tell them everything, y’know?”

Richard felt like his head was spinning as he listened to Aidan ramble, flinching away slightly every time he gestured with his hands.

“Richard?"

“You’re not going to kick me out onto the streets again, are you? Because I can’t…I don’t…”

Aidan stared at him, and Richard couldn’t help but pull his wings protectively around himself.

“What on earth gave you that idea?” the young Irish boy asked incredulously.

“L-last night. When Dean was on the floor and I said something and I can’t remember what but you just glared at me.”

Aidan at least had the sense of self to look guilty.

“Sorry. I was just…I was scared, and I was annoyed at Jed for forgetting and for hurting him and it wasn’t directed at you, trust me.”

The anxiety that had been working through him began to alleviate, but he still felt the knots in his stomach.

“If it had been me…if I’d’ve done what Jed did, would I still have a home?”

There was a scarily long pause before Aidan replied, “Of course you would. There would’ve been no way for you to know.”

The time it had taken for Aidan to reassure him did nothing to help him relax. All he could think was that he, in truth, sat on a knife’s edge here, and perhaps any mistake could send him tumbling down, landing him back on that park bench he was so intimate with.

“Hey, Richard, don’t worry. We’re not going to kick you out with no place else to go in the middle of winter. Ian would never stand for it. Plus, you’re one of us now.”

Despite knowing that he was on a knife’s edge, and that leaning either way could cause him to topple off, his curiosity once more took control of his vocal chords and asked, “Then what happened to Dean to make that happen?”

Aidan once more paused, before answering, “You should ask him. It’s not my story to tell.”

Another short pause, before Aidan launched into a new sentence. “Anyway, since Dean called in sick, we’re actually short a staff member for next shift and need someone to serve customers with Graham, so you’re up.”

* * *

Richard’s heart was pounding as he stood in front of the counter next to Graham. The man next to him kept nudging him and reminding him to look happier, and less like he was staring down a giant rampaging dragon. 

“I think I’d rather be facing a rampaging dragon, to be honest,” Richard replied as he shoved an order into the kitchen.

“Surely you can’t be finding this that bad.”

“Up until a week ago I hadn’t had friendly interactions with another human being for months, and now I’m serving customers.”

“Okay, fair enough,” Graham replied. “That was sort of why I wasn’t at dinner last night. We were scared of overwhelming you, and I sort of drew the short straw.”

Richard felt himself blushing slightly at the idea that his colleagues had actually bothered to make an effort to make him feel comfortable, although it was a blush that was tinged with guilt at the fact that it meant that Graham had to miss out.

“I didn’t realise you guys had done that,” Richard admitted.

“Yea, well, don’t tell the others that I told you. Don’t want them to think I’m going soft.”

After all the secrets that had come up surrounding Dean, Aidan and the mysterious Rob, Richard was just happy to finally be trusted with something, however small. “My lips are sealed.”

Graham smiled at him, before nodding at the lady that had approached the counter on the other side. “I’ll serve her, give you a small reprise.”

All in all, the reprise wasn’t that small, since Graham had barely begun taking the other lady’s order when a man about Richard’s age approached his till. Richard looked up and was surprised to see soft, kind blue eyes under heavy eyebrows, creamy brown wings rustling slightly on his back. The man looked equally surprised to see Richard.

“Hi,” the man said.

“Um, hi,” Richard replied.

“Hi,” the man repeated, staring at him with an odd look that Richard didn’t think he’d seen directed at him, but certainly wasn’t malicious.

“Hi. Um, can I take your order?”

The question seemed to snap the man out of whatever daze he was in.

“Right. Yes. Of course. Right. Sorry, but are you new here? It’s just that I come in here basically every day and I’ve never seen you around and I think I would’ve noticed you if you had been here. You’re very noticeable. But not in a bad way! In a nice way. Like you’re just… oh, god, I’m completely screwing up this first impression, aren’t I?”

“No. No, it’s a fine first impression,” Richard hastily reassured, completely honestly and openly, with no self-preservation involved at all. “And I am new. I started last week, and this is my first time serving customers, which is probably why you’ve never seen me.”

Mystery eyebrow man’s eyes lit up at Richard’s reassurance, wings settling slightly more calmly against his back.

“That makes sense. As to why I’ve never seen you before, I mean. And I hope you do it more, you know. The…the serving stuff. Like serving customers, not the serving serving like creepy kinky stuff, because that’s weird. Although if you’re into that sort of stuff it’s completely fine but it’s just not my cup of tea, you know? Sorry, rambling again. I’m Lee. Me and my friends Orlando and Evangeline own a bread and breakfast just down the road, hence why we come in here so often and I was able to pick that you were new.”

“Nice to meet you. Um…can I take your order or not?” Not that he wanted this guy, Lee, to shut up, per say. It was just that he had no idea how to respond.

“Right. Yea, of course. I’ll have just a cap and a ham, cheese and tomato toasted sandwich to go, please.”

Richard nodded and put the order in with Adam while Lee paid for the food.

“So, how come Ian took you in? I mean, if it’s not rude of me to ask or anything.”

Richard shrugged. “Cate ran into me sleeping on my park bench. Introduced me to Ian.”

“Ah, was it because of your wings? That you were on the park bench? Did your parents kick you out or something?”

“Yea, basically,” Richard admitted.

“Well, you’re in good hands here. Ian’s one of the greatest men I know, and all the staff are amazingly nice. You’ll do fine. And if not, you'll always be welcome to drop in at our hotel. It's literally four doors down.”

Before Richard had time to say anything, the toasted sandwich and cap were there.

“Thanks,” Lee said with a frankly endearing smile. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

He’d barely made it three meters when he spun around and headed back to the counter.

“Look, I know I’ve only just met you and you’re barely more than a stranger, but I’m imagining you don’t know many people around here, so I was wondering if you’d let me take you out tomorrow and show you around?”

“Um… yea. That…that sounds nice.”

Lee smiled brightly, and Richard couldn’t help returning a little shy smile of his own.

“That’s great. That’s really…really great. I’ll meet you outside at like four, yea?”

“It’s a thing,” Richard smiled back.

“Great! I’ll see you then, then!”

Richard couldn’t help but wonder at how easily he’d just met someone new who hadn’t automatically taken offense at his presence. He was so busy watching Lee leaving the shop that he completely missed Graham watching him, a sad smile of his own painted on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK ANOTHER UPDATE! IT'S AMAZING! Also this is an issue of "too short for two seperate chapters" hence two things happening. 
> 
> You know how sometimes characters do not what you were planning on having them doing? Yea that’s what happened with Lee there… a friend of mine had never seen Pushing Daisies before and I forced her to marathon it with me which may have sort of influenced Lee’s personality in this. 
> 
> Poor Graham.


	9. Chapter 9

Four o’clock could not come soon enough for Richard as he scrubbed the dishes, back in his usual place for his shift, Adam working at the stove behind him. The shift was, as usual, conducted mostly in silence, mainly due to Adam being too busy cooking to stop and chat. Richard, on the other hand, spent most of his time glancing at the clock, watching time tick by minute by agonising minute.

“Three thirty,” he grinned at the clock.

“What are you all excited about?” Adam asked, for a second not having a single thing on the stove or in the oven.

“I’ve got a date. Well, not a date. Like, not a date date. It’s… a guy’s offered to show me around the area properly.”

Adam was giving him a look. Richard wasn’t entirely sure if it was an ‘ _aww, look at him, on a date’_ look or if that was just his imagination.

“Is this guy anyone I’d know?”

“He said he was a regular, so possibly. Lee, his name is.”

Adam smiled at the name. “Oh, everyone knows Lee. And there are much worse people to go on dates with.”

The cheeky grin that accompanied Adam’s words caused Richard’s face to go so red he was surprised his legs didn’t collapse from the sudden blood loss.

“It’s not a date like that,” he replied futilely, regretting his terminology. Knowing the way words spread like wildfire through the café’s staff, especially from Aidan and Dean, who were very good friends of Adam’s, by tomorrow he’d have at least one person ribbing him about this date. The thought filled him with slight panic and annoyance, but also warmth at the thought of having people to actually rib him about this sort of stuff. Although with the tense atmosphere of the café since Rob’s first appearance, maybe the words wouldn’t spread, or the ribbing wouldn’t actually happen. It’d just be one more secret locked up on top of the ever growing mound.

“Well, you’d still better go get ready for your non-date. You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow.”

Grateful to have been saved from awkwardly ending the conversation himself, Richard darted out of the kitchen’s back door and up to his room, glancing out the window at the layer of snow that still covered the ground and the trees. Inside the café’s kitchen, it was so easy to forget how cold it was outside, but he was already starting to feel the chill creep into his bones. Quickly, he located a beanie and scarf and gloves and jacket – this one without holes in the back, probably as that would limit its effectiveness – and self-consciously checked himself in the mirror, pulling his beanie down further and wishing there was a way to get it to cover his nose, which seemed to have just gotten longer and pointier since he was kicked onto the streets. Perhaps to get him to pay more attention to it as he starved – stealing all his food and using it to grow as it stinted the rest of him.

Satisfied that he was suitably dressed to go out in the cold, checking to see that the time was at least close to four, he made his way to the front of the café, now more skilled in the arts of dodging waving arms as he got onto the street.

Lee was already standing there, leaning against the wall and waiting, breath fogging up the air in front of him, the tips of brown feathers sticking out between the top of his coat and the bottom of his scarf, beanie pulled down to his eyebrows.

“Hey! You ready?” he said in greeting, smiling a warm, excited smile.

“Yea. Yea, I think I am.”

“Well then, come on!”

And with that Lee grabbed Richard’s hand and took off, as if to drag Richard along. Startled by the sudden tug at his arm, Richard pulled back and let out a yelp, easily tugging his hand out of the confused Lee’s hand.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, concerned guilt lining his face.

“No. No, I just… I’m still getting used to the whole ‘friendly people’ thing. It’s just…me. Sorry.”

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t’ve done it if I’d realised.”

The look of guilty horror on Lee’s face made Richard feel guilty himself.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s just…sorry, I just can’t help it.” Can’t help the crawling sensation of being dragged out of the room, abuse spitting, blood still clotting, arm feeling like it was being yanked from his shoulder.

Lee pointedly pushed his hands into his coat pocket, something that made Richard feel both grateful and ashamed.

“I…I don’t mind holding hands. I just don’t like being yanked.”

Slowly, as if Richard was a wild animal that would bolt at any moment, Lee pulled one of his hands back out of his pocket, holding it out for him. When he gently took it, the smile that slowly crawled over Lee’s face matched the one on his own. He glanced down at their hands, realising he couldn’t remember the last time he held someone’s hand like this. The comfort made him feel so happy the biting chill seemed like nothing in its wake.

“So, where are you taking me to?”

And with that Lee guided him, slowly this time, down the street of the café, showing him the bed and breakfast he owned with his friends before turning down into one of the alleyways. Richard automatically halted, nervously looking down the narrow path.

“Are you sure this is safe?” 

Lee just grinned at him and gently, so gently, tugged him down the alleyway. To Richard’s surprise, it wasn’t just a deserted place. A few steps down, there were more cafés and shops and bars and restaurants with more winged people standing on either side of counters.

“Is this entire area just filled with people like us?” Richard asked in wonder, gazing around at the colourful shops with their colourful people. 

“Sort of. When Ian set up his café, lots of us started gravitating to this area – you know how hostile people can get towards us. Eventually, lots of us started permanently relocating down here, getting businesses and hiring more people like us. There are more little alleyways like these around here – there’s lots of uni students around who, winged or non-winged, seem to gravitate to this place.”

A whimsical smile spread over his face. “Attitudes seem to be changing. The younger generations don’t seem to have the same ideals as their parents – maybe there’ll be change soon. No more ever needing to hide our wings.”

Richard just shrugged his shoulders and didn’t say anything, not wanting to ruin the other’s optimism, not wanting to point out that by that time they would probably be old or long gone, and that prejudice never seemed to be completely stamped out.

“Anyway, this isn’t the best bit. The best bit is a bit further down.”

They headed down the paved streets, talking about everything and nothing as Lee smiled and nodded to people and Richard ducked his head in embarrassment, not letting go of Lee’s hand.

“This is it!”

Richard looked properly up at his surroundings as Lee grinned beside him. The cobbled streets ended in a lovely garden, filled with snow covered trees that had been decorated in fairy lights and lanterns. While the flowerbeds were covered in white and the trees hung bare apart from their icy loads, Richard could see why Lee called this the best part.

“It’s gorgeous,” Richard breathed.

“I stumbled across it a while back. It’s one of the lesser known places around here – it’s pretty easy to get lost in the alleyways as you get further through. Took me three tried to find it the second time, despite me living here. And you should see it in spring, when everything’s in bloom.”

Richard could imagine, see the colours that would fill the sky as time passed. Lee gently squeezed his hand, and he squeezed it right back, realising that once again he had been shown a secret.

“Thank you. For taking me here.”

“It’s a pleasure. Truly.”

The other man glanced around the park, before smiling at Richard again.

“We should build a snowman. Or a snow cat!”

Richard couldn’t help but smile back, truly smile. “You’ll have to put up with how bad at it I am. I’ve never built a snowman in my life.”

“Never?”

The disbelief was like Richard had grown a second head.

“My parents didn’t approve.”

And so in a mostly deserted hidden garden in a haven that Richard hadn’t even realised existed, he built his first snowman with a new friend.

The sun was just dipping below the horizon when they finished their little snow man, shoving twigs for arms and stones for the face, Richard feeling like he was five again and just discovering the wonders of the outside world.

“There. Perfect.”

The pair of them stood back and admired their handiwork as the sky tinged pink and orange with sunset. Richard glanced down at where Lee’s hands rested by his side and, shyly, reached out and gently took it.

The smile that once again lit up the other man’s face warmed Richard’s heart. They stood in silence, watching as the last rays of light faded from the skyline and the fairy lights twinkled in faint imitation of the starts above.

As the darkness descended, Richard shivered, looking down and realising that from the knee down his pants were completely soaked through from kneeling in the snow, and that his jacket wasn’t nearly as warm as he’d first though it was.

Lee had noticed, too, frowning in a way Richard really wished he wouldn’t.

“I was planning on taking you the scenic route back and taking you out to dinner, but maybe we should drop back to the café and get you into something warmer.”

Then, before Richard could even realise what he was doing and protest, Lee shrugged off his own coat and pulled it over Richard’s shoulders.

“You don’t have to…”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t mind the cold.”

Still, the brown wings free from the coat wrapped themselves tightly around Lee’s body, reminding Richard of his own nights shivering on the cold park bench.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Do you mind if I…”

Lee didn’t bother to finish his sentence, instead moving closer to Richard and gently wrapping one of his wings around him, hand returning firmly to his.

“I…I don’t mind.”

Richard looked at the wings, the way the soft feathers rustled and the bones so delicately and easily stretched. Gently, he reached up and stroked the brown feathers, smiling.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever looked at wings and thought they were beautiful before now.”

Lee’s face went red, and not from the cold.

“W-we should get back to the café. Before either of us catches our death.”

The walk was comfortably silent, Richard still embraced in Lee’s wing.

“You know, you’re the first friend I’ve had outside of work since I was sixteen,” Richard told his companion honestly. “And…and I can’t imagine an afternoon better spent.”

The café was there, in front of them, as Lee smiled again. “Nor can I.”

A small shiver racked his body, causing Richard to remember why they were back at the café in the first place. Hurriedly, he pushed the door open, shoving both himself and Lee through the door.

What he didn’t expect to see was Rob standing in the closed café, sneering at Aidan, Dean, Adam and James.

“We’ve won, you know. You’re on your last legs in here.”

“What are you talking about? The café’s thriving,” Aidan retorted, Irish accent thickening.

“I’ll just advise you to watch the news tomorrow. I’m sure it’ll be very illuminating. And then I’ll be back.”

And with that Rob shoved past Richard and Lee, walking straight through them instead of bothering to go around. The pair watched him go.

“What was that about?” Lee asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean and Aidan having a hushed conversation. When they separated, it was Dean who spoke.

“I think it’s time we explain to you. About Rob.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve never actually been to anywhere in the UK. I’m Australian and it’s kinda a while away. So the areas that Lee showed him around were based off areas in Sydney and Melbourne and my imagination. Just in case you’re wondering. Also finally introducing Rob’s backstory :D. Also I just realised that I’ve got a few continuity errors, so in the next day or so I’ll actually be fixing up the story a bit – mainly blurring the ages b/c Aidan and Dean need to be a bit older than originally planned. I’ve also only ever seen snow a handful of times, too, and the last time was about three years ago, so apologies for not understanding the niceties of it. 
> 
> Also this is completely unbetad and if anyone's interested I'm always happy to have someone...
> 
> Sorry for rotting people's teeth with the fluff this chapter, too


	10. Chapter 10

“When I moved to England, Rob was one of the first people I met. We ran into each other at a pub and struck up conversation, and I found myself liking him. He was smart, witty, charming, exactly the sot of person who seemed like he’d touch someone like me with a meter long barge pole, you know? 

“After about three weeks of meeting up at pubs and going out together, we sort of started dating. And he was really sweet about it, constantly polite and lovely. Even when he first found out about my wings he seemed perfectly fine with them. The first time he really showed any issue with it was when Dean first came into the picture.”

Richard glanced as the blond boy, who ran a hand through his hair before starting talking.

“I was with the New Zealand army at the time, and we were meant to be doing a five month training here with the English army. Rob, who was a superior officer in the English army, had been assigned as my mentor while doing training, which is how I initially met Aidan. And we got along well. The three of us, but me and Aid in particular. After a while, me and Aidan would start hanging out together even when Rob wasn’t there.”

Aidan’s wings automatically flicked and wrapped themselves further around Dean.

“Rob got jealous. More controlling. It wasn’t really that obvious at first – mainly started off as us going out together and leaving Dean behind. But as the five months wore on, it got to the stage where I couldn’t leave the house without any of his military buddies following me and reporting back to him. It got to the stage where I would fly out of the back window just to avoid them. I never…I never thought to break up with him. Not until he got told he was being deployed with the New Zealand troops the next day. I’d flown off and spent the day with Dean, voiced some of my nervousness about being with Rob.”

His wings were pulling Dean so close that it was like he was trying to merge them into one invincible being.

“I…I suggested that if he was feeling uncomfortable with Rob, he should break up with him,” Dean said softly. “I didn’t realise that anyone was watching. I should’ve. It’s how I’d been trained – be constantly alert around hostiles. But I didn’t.”

“It’s not your fault,” Aidan told the other man, gently resting his head on Dean’s shoulder, hand finding hand. “Don’t ever think it was.”

Richard averted his eyes, feeling like he was looking in on something that wasn’t meant for his eyes. James and Adam had already left, but Lee was still sitting beside him, looking equally focused in a small hole in his glove.

“I…I went to his apartment that evening and he tacked me, pinning me to the ground,” Aidan said, breaking out of his and Dean’s moment. “He…he grabbed a pair of scissors and started attacking my wings, effectively clipping them. It was the first time he’d been outright violent towards me. He started yelling about how he should never have trusted something like me. I…I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared before. He locked me in, tied me to his desk and screamed that he didn’t care if I starved to death while he was deployed so long as nobody had to deal with me.”

Richard shivered as he imagined Aidan, always so full of life, being tied down and screamed at. Once more he found Lee’s hand, and the other man squeezed it slightly.

“I had no clue what had happened,” Dean said, picking up the story. “I trusted Rob to watch my back while we were deployed. But, around a fortnight into my deployment, we were sent to scout enemy territory together. We were out, far away from base camp, when Rob pulled his gun on me. Started raging about how I should know that all winged people were cheating bastards and that Aidan is no different. Talked about ridding the world of filth like him, asked if I would join him. When I said I didn’t think like that, he pulled the trigger. I lived - shot missed my spine, but it did a lot of muscle damage. He claimed that we were shot by enemy hostiles, and at stage I was too out of it to say any different.

“I was discharged from the army and sent to hospital. I was in physio in New Zealand for months. My parents looked after me a lot, but it was scary going from being completely independent to barely being able to lift a spoon without my mum. I never went to report what Rob had done – it was too long past since it had happened, and I was afraid nobody would believe me.”

Once again he paused, licking his lips, and once more Richard found himself reconsidering his friends. He remembered the first time he’d met Dean, imagining that stretch of unbroken skin covering his back.

“I, meanwhile, spent a five days trapped in Rob’s apartment,” Aidan said. “Adam had been concerned when I didn’t turn up for a shift, and raised the alarm. It didn’t take him long to find me – he flew in through the window, I remember. Called Ian, got him to take care of me. I tried to report it under domestic abuse, but nobody listened to me, or they thought I deserved it. It was the first time I’d ever seen pure baseless hostility based off my wings and it was horrible. I went back to working at the café, hoping that Rob wouldn’t turn up. James moved here – he claimed it wasn’t because of me, but his family was friends with mine and I’m sure he was sent to keep an eye on me.”

Once more there was a pause in there story while Dean moved even closer to Aidan, snaking an arm around his waist before he started speaking again.

“Rob’s deployment lasted nearly as long as my physio. I spent months in New Zealand, until I couldn’t stand to be coddled by my parents anymore. I decided to move back to England, see if I could find Aidan again. It was a struggle for a while – retired soldiers don’t get that big of a pension, and I had no qualifications. Ian ended up accepting me into the café, and Rob had disappeared. We hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him until last week.”

Richard looked at the two of them, felt the weight of their secret as it settled in the air. Now that he knew it, he questioned if it was a good thing, or if he should have been content to let it fester in the shadows.

Either way, it was too late now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* you’ll be seeing more of me writing because I GOT ACCEPTED INTO BACHELOR OF COMMUNICATIONS IN CREATIVE WRITING AT THE UNI I WANTED I JUST WANT TO HUG ALL OF YOU IN MY OWN SELFISH JOY AND PLEASE DON’T POINT OUT HOW USELESS MY DEGREE IS GONNA BE I’M DOING PART TIME PROGRAMMING COURSES ON THE SIDE  
> Also yay backstory! I hope it lives up to expectations! Also biology and physics have been messed with because it took me a few chapters to come up with this and continuity shh


	11. Chapter 11

The rest of Richard’s evening with Lee had been dampened. They ended up having leftover pasta at the café, eating mostly in silence as Richard had stared at his bowl, processing the new information. As they finished the meal, Lee awkwardly stood up. 

“I guess this wasn’t quite the ideal first night out, was it.”

Richard gave him a half hearted smile back.

“Probably could’ve been better.”

Every time Richard tried to close his eyes, all he could see was Aidan, trapped, unable to fly like he loved to. Or Dean, bloody, broken.

“Maybe we could try again another time?”

The blush that was spread over Lee’s cheeks was enough to replace the imaginings of Dean and Aidan’s past for at least a minute.

“That would be nice.

Lee’s smile could light the skies with more brightness than the sun, Richard decided.

“Cool. Maybe not tomorrow, but the next day?”

“Sure. Same time?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

Richard had a restless night. All he could see was Aidan and Dean and blood and Rob laughing and the world spinning and when the sun finally called him from his slumber he breathed a sigh of relief.

The air in the restaurant was tense, the secrets spilled the previous night hanging thickly.

“Morning Richard! How was your date?”

Adam was beaming, eyes alight with mischief.

“Aidan and Dean told me. About Rob.”

The smile slipped off his friend’s face. “Oh. They didn’t mention it. Although they both called in sick today.”

Had it taken just over a week for his new haven to fall apart around his ears?

“But apart from Aidan and Dean, how’d it go? Oh, they didn’t tell you before, did they? Because that is just rude.”

“No. No, it was really nice. He took me down all the laneways and to this garden. We made snowmen. They didn’t mention anything until we got back – Rob was in the café again."

Adam’s face turned darker. “What is he doing hanging around?”

_The news tomorrow._

“Do you have a copy of today’s newspaper?”

“What?”

“He said we were going to loose the café. Something about it being in the news tomorrow. Which, now, is today.”

The darkness turned to confused fear. “He can’t take away the café.”

“We don’t know that.”

Richard knew better than most how easily one could be torn from their home.

“There’s a newsagent two doors down. Do you want to go grab today’s paper?”

Automatically Richard shook his head. He wasn’t ready to do anything outside the café on his own. “I’ll…I’ll set up the café.”

Five minutes later Richard regretted that decision, his nails getting bitten to the quick as he waited for the news.

When Adam reappeared, he didn’t feel much better. His friend was pale, dumbfound, paper clutched in his hand.

“What is it?”

Wordlessly, Adam passed the newspaper over to Richard.

_Law passed in the lower house declares anyone with wings non-human._

Richard’s ears rung with the news as he stared at the paper. Frantically, his eyes scanned the paper.

_‘Studies have shown that biologically, people with wings are closer to birds than humans. Their muscle density is higher, their bones lighter. Intelligence wise, it’s uncertain what differences there are, but the winged creature’s strength and ability to match even the strongest human make them unpredictable and dangerous.’_

The paper was shaking. No, it was his hands. His hands were shaking, fear and fury raging within him.

_‘This new law states that these winged creatures will have similar regulations to dogs and other trainable domestic animals. They will have to be accompanied and supervised by a human in public at all times and in all but a few designated areas. Any property they own shall be passed into the care of the state and auctioned off if a next of kin is unavailable. Any creature unsupervised by a human can be taken into custody for as long as it takes to locate an owner. Any creature who displays violent tendencies will be put down.’_

The world lurched. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Sure enough, he’d barely reached the toilet bowl before bile spewed up, dribbling out. Adam was nowhere to be seen, still standing in the entrance in shock.

Rob’s words were right. They were done for. Ian owned the shop, but Ian was winged. If the law got passed, the café had no owner. It was the state’s, or anyone who could afford it’s.

“It still has to get through the senate,” he whispered, picking himself up off the bathroom floor and wandering back into the café. “Adam, it hadn’t passed yet. It still has to get through the senate. We can get everything in order.”

“I live on my own in an apartment, Richard,” Adam whispered. “An apartment I won’t be able to call my own and won’t be able to pay for because I won’t have a job. And I’m not like you. I can’t get tossed onto the streets and adapt, survive. I’m not resilient, not really.”

“I’m not resilient, Adam. If Cate hadn’t found me when she had…I don’t know if the cold would’ve killed me, or if I’d’ve just given up. But the thing is, everyone adapts. And it’s not over – they still need to get it through the senate. That takes weeks, months, sometimes even years. And it might not get passed. It can’t get passed. They couldn’t pass something like this.”

He’d gotten very good at lying, out on the streets. While he preferred not to, he refused to feel guilty as a spark of hope lit up in Adam’s eyes.

“You’re right. It’s not passed yet. There’s still hope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if I'm 100% happy with this chapter. But yea, there it is. It all begins going downhill from here.
> 
> For anyone who's interested, the first inklings of his plotline came from Russia's current anti-LGBT laws, where it's illegal to tell minors that being queer is in anyway equal to being straight and it's illegal to give public displays of affection. It's also sort of based on an issue where the ACT passed gay marriage laws which were later struck down after the high court ruled against it, meaning a bunch of newlyweds were now not married. I kinda took the idea of the loss of rights and then just extrapolated


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a while. Between last update and this, I've come out as non-binary, changed courses, been to my first queer conference and made a crapload of new friends. Still, since it's like 2am in the morning and I'm bored, figured I may as well bash out an update. Hopefully it's still up to its usual standard and makes sense - part of me was considering rewriting large chunks of things, but for now I'm actually quite happy with what I had on paper. Or, well, internet.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for once more going on an overly long hiatus, and hopefully I'll get back into the habit of actually updating regularly. Also sorry that this update is pretty short

"It's going to be a slaughter."

The harshly whispered words slip out of Lee's lips as his hands clench so hard his knuckles go white.

"They hardly hesitate to shove us down without the law on their side. There'll be executions on the street if this passes."

Richard wished he could offer words of comfort, but he couldn't bring himself to utter hollow lies to his new friend. Instead, he gently takes one of Lee's clenched hands, hoping his smile offers some illusion of comfort.

"What are we going to do?"

"I'm sure Ian has a plan," Richard replied with optimism he didn't feel. "The others trust and rely on him too much for him not to have prepared for this."

"Yeah, but..." Lee sighed, the hand not occupied with Richard's running through his hair, "we're doomed. If this passes, I don't think anyone will stand for it. And they'll kill us all, Richard. Every last one of us. We don't have a hope of fighting back."

"I know."

* * *

The conversation between the two of them didn't get any lighter as they lay on Richard's bed, their wings enveloping each other in an illusion of safety.

"I never thought anything like this would happen," Richard said softly. "Never, in my wildest worst nightmares, on the darkest and coldest nights on that bench, did I imagine they would classify us as fucking animals."

Lee made a noise of agreement, arms shifting to pull Richard closer to him.

"And now...I just got here, Lee. I finally got to safety and not they want to take it all away from us."

"I know, Rich. I know."

The pair of them curled closer into each other, and all Richard could think about was the way Aidan kept pulling Dean towards him as he retold the tale of what Rob had done. Bile once more rose in his throat at the thought of Rob getting a hold of the cafe, turning their little safe haven inside out in a spiteful rage.

"Ian could always hand the cafe over to Dean, couldn't he? I mean, Dean's not winged. There's no way they could touch it."

Lee shrugged as well as he could without letting go of Richard.

"I have no clue where the law stands on instances like this. Now it's passed through the lower house, they could decide that no property owned by winged humans can be passed on to someone who is not a direct relative."

The other man shivered against Richard's body, as he pulled him in tighter, as if trying to meld the two of them together. 

"Rob won't get his hands on this place. There's no way it could happen."

Another wordless shrug came from Lee, and no words came in reply. The two of them fell into a melancholy silence, both of them thinking about the implication of the new laws. Fear and anxiety clawed its way up Richard's throat, feeling like it was going to suffocate him. He didn't even notice the tears beginning to streak down his face until Lee removed one of his arms from their embrace to wipe them away.

"Hey, it'll be okay. I'll look after you, yea? Me and you, fighting side by side."

That caused Richard to let out a wet chuckle.

"I somehow can't imagine you fighting."

"Hey! I'd be a brilliant fighter. I can totally fight. Just you watch."

"I hope I never have to."

"I hope you never have to, either."

Silence once more returned, broken only by the rustling of Lee's wings. Gently, Richard leaned further forwards, resting his head on Lee's shoulder.

"I'm sorry we didn't get to know each other before this happened," Lee told him softly.

"So am I. So am I."


End file.
